Disclaimer: I do not own Overwatch, its events or its characters. In a fit of rage, our protagonist accidentally kills himself and gets the option to get reincaranated to a world of his choice. Based on the many hours of dedication and a body pillow, he chooses the world of Overwatch. Join Shawn as he fights robots and helps change the world. Cover is done by Badbitch21.
I could not believe what I was currently seeing.
I turned my monitor off then back on to make sure this wasn't some cruel joke.
But as the text remained exactly as it was, the reality sunk in.
The Overwatch PVE project was being cancelled?
I sat back in my gaming chair, still in unbelief.
You mean, all those days of suffering through rampaging tanks that wouldn't get nerfed because of the promise of PVE, were for nothing?
Upgrading to a whole second game, that was supposedly dedicated to PVE, wasn't going to happen?
Just thinking about all those days where I would have the worst game I've ever had, then reassure myself that it wouldn't matter when PVE came out, then queue again for another loss.
In a brief moment of rage, I lashed out at the nearest thing close to me, which was my gaming laptop.
My hand easily penetrates the screen, which sends off sparks as a wire touches my exposed arm.
A current travels through my body, paralyzing me as pain shoots throughout my body as sparks fly off, creating flames from papers I had lying around.
The flames grow higher as all my collections, the comics, the Funko Pops, the body pillo... the posters, get eaten up by the fire before my eyes in my apartment.
Finally I'm free from being electrocuted, and my body falls to the floor, convulsing.
As I'm on the ground, struggling to regain control of my body, but having an immense pain in my chest and left arm, I can only manage to turn my head towards my desk.
Through the black smoke, I make out the case containing the first Overwatch disk that I bought as a memoir, slowly getting developed by flames.
As my vision darkens, my final thought before I fade was, 'At least I won't get fisted by Doomfist anymore.'
I come to and find myself behind a yellow dot, floating aimlessly in a dark void.
Confused, I try to look around and see nothing but emptiness on both sides of me, and another yellow dot behind me.
Panicking I attempt to move but I remain where I am.
After several desperate attempts, I eventually give up, as there is nothing I can do.
Soon after an unknown amount of time, an arch of blinding light appears and I surge forward, giving me just enough time to see a line of yellow dots headed towards this door.
When a dot comes through, it closes immediately behind it, leaving the rest of us to the darkness of the void.
I anxiously await my turn to head through the door, as the void I was surrounded scared me a bit.
While waiting, I started counting how many seconds before the door would reappear and consume another dot.
I found that each time varied between each dot, some taking more considerable time than others.
As I neared the door, my anxiety returned as I feared what awaited me behind it.
The door reopened and with no control over myself, I lunged forward and was instantly blinded.
With the effects of the seemingly flash bang fading and my vision slowly returning, I can see an expanse of clouds as far as the eye can see.
Looking up, there's a bright blue sky with the sun hanging directly above my head.
Making tHe mistake of looking directly into the sun momentarily blinds me once again as I hold up my arms to block it out.
Only then do I realize I'm back in my human form.
As I'm taking all this in, I hear a whistle to my right.
Looking in that direction, I see a middle aged man, in a white suit sitting behind a desk that contained files in a neat stack to the left of it and a cup holding pens to the right.
He motions for me to have a seat in the massive arm chair in front of him, which I do hesitantly.
As I sit, he speaks, "Alright you're case number 3096715234. Let's see here.
Oh, you were electrocuted and burned from a fire in your apartment which you caused in a fit of rage. That's rough.
Says here you have a clean record, no murders or anything bad, just some very choice words being said to others.
Therefore you are eligible for three options.
Moving on to our haven, being a director for other souls, or reincarnation."
My mind was racing over his words, but it focused on the last thing he said.
"Wait reincarnation?"
He sighs. "I knew that would catch your attention the most, maybe I should have said it as the second choice.
Yes, reincarnation to a world of your choice."
"Any world?" I ask skeptically.
"Yes, any world. Even the ones you regard as fiction. Although before you go down this option I will like to say being a director of souls has it's perks.
You get a nice insurance package with great working hours to your choosing."
His words go unheard by me as I process what he just implied.
"What do you mean world's I regard as a fiction? Are you saying they're not?"
He stops his rant, "Yes that's what I'm saying. If this is the option you're so focused on I might as well explain it better.
Basically, all world's you've heard of in your life, are real.
The events, the people, everything.
Now the authors who create these, are basically given glimpses into these worlds and recall their events in stories that they think are their own ideas."
Putting my hands up in disbelief, I ask, " So youre telling me there's actually a blonde kid wearing an orange jacket yelling, Believe it?"
He smiles, "Yep."
"A guy who goes around beating the daylights out of people who so much as litter while dressed like a bat in Gotham?"
"He's a cool guy once you meet him." He responds.
"Wait a minute. Even super brightly colored ponies that talk, and do magic."
He smiles, looking up like he's remembering something, "Never a dull moment with them.
But yes, you get the picture. Just choose one world and you're there."
In his hand a white light appears and takes the shape of a tall rectangle.
The light dissipates to reveal my prizes possession in his hand.
"Judging from this body pillow, I'm sure you'd want to go to the world of Overwatch." He says promptly with a smirk.
"Of course no...." I start to say then pause.
When Overwatch first came out, I was entrapped by it's lore.
The many shorts that it had were just too good for me to not try the game out.
Of course there wasn't much PVE aspects to the game which is why I turned to playing it competitively.
But now, I'm being offered to actually be a part of the lore.
Meet my favorite characters and fight alongside them against hordes of robots.
"Before I agree, isn't there some wishes I would get for going there as well?" I ask.
"Better not say the Sharigan or a system." He warns.
It's funny cause I was going to ask for the Rinnegan but changed my mind once he said that.
"Why can't I get any powers? You said yourself I haven't done anything bad." I try to reason.
"I never said you couldn't get powers. I said you couldn't get those. In fact, I already have your powers here."
He slides a folder towards me.
I pick it up with excitement and read, Case #3096715234 Subject electrocuted then burned to death. No actions higher than Class D. Two Class D offenses of telling someone to end themselves.
Afterlife alternatives: Haven settlement, Soul Director, reincarnation
If Soul Director, assign to Zone 21B.
If reincarnated, to a world with powers, assign being able to control electricity or fire in respective of death.
Note: If subject is reincarnated to a familiar world, maintain state of DEFCON 3.
Reading that note, I look up and question,
"What does DEFCON 3 mean?"
"Ah. Souls are basically a mixture of memories that personify who you are.
When a soul chooses reincarnation, they can choose worlds were they already know whats going to happen.
Since it's messy work trying to remove the memories from a soul, who no doubt will change events to their favor, we do something else.
We put the world in DEFCON 3, where you get your own timeline, separate from the original.
Anytime you change something in said timeline, it changes the future.
So, should you change too much, you could either be super successful or lead to your own downfall, either way, the "author" would dismiss your world as filler and when you die, be erased."
Countless thoughts ran through my head as the memories of Overwatch events played.
One thought was louder than the rest, 'Lets not mess with the timeline'.
"That being said, fire or electricity?" He questions, grabbing a pen and a clipboard.
I almost blurted out fire right off the bat, then thought, 'It doesn't matter where in the timeline I reincarnate, I'll be facing omnics, whether it's the first Omnic Crisis or Null Sector.
Electricity works on both robots and people and would give me a better advantage than fire would.
"Electricity." I respond.
He circles my choice on the clipboard and puts the paper in the folder.
He holds the file up and a ray of sunshine comes down, lifting the file up towards the sun.
"Two final notes before we let you go.
First, you're allowed to do whatever you want. But keep note that we keep track of whatever negative actions you do.
Commit a high enough class action and the alternative choices you had won't be available.
And no, performing good actions does not erase the negative ones.
Lastly, company policy states that when a subject is allowed their memories to a world, it is to be changed to , can see the future and there will be someone who knows you can, but it will be randomized so even we don't know."
I could only hope my odds were good and its just some person or Omnic that dies in the war so my secret is safe.
"Alright when you're ready to leave, just say humuhumunukunukuapua'a."
"What?"
"Didn't even try to say it huh.
Whatever, good luck."
He snaps his fingers and I get flash banged once again.